A Room Called Earth by Madeleine Ryan

Author:Madeleine Ryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

“Hey, would you like some smoked salmon?”

“Oh. Ah, no, thank you.”

“You seem very interested in the fridge?”

“I am.”

“Not hungry?”

“Not really.”

“That’s chill, that’s chill. I just can’t shut up about the salmon because I smoked it, see? And I brought the capers, and the diced red onion, and the cream cheese, and the little bits of toasted fucking sourdough, and the little fucking dish over there. Yep. All me, baby. Sure you don’t want a smidge?”

“I don’t eat animals.”

“Philosophical or health reasons?”

“What’s the difference.”

“Touché. So, who do you know?”

“At . . . this party?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm. Someone who used to live here.”

“Right? Well. I don’t know anyone who lives here. I came with friends. Pretty sweet pad, though. I fucking love high ceilings. Where do you live?”

“Across town.”

“Mysterious. That’s chill, that’s chill. I can dig it. I like your kimono.”

“Thanks.”

“And your fringe. There’s something about chicks with fringes.”

“Is there.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that a martini you’re sipping?”

“Umm. Yeah.”

“Did you make it?”

“Yes.”

“Care to . . . hook a brother up?”

“Ok.”

“Maybe in a jar? Man, share house jar-glasses. What can you do?”

“A psychic once told me to never trust a man who smiles with his teeth.”

“Lol! Really? Why? What are you supposed to smile with?”

“Your eyes.”

“Do I not smile with my eyes?”

“No.”

“You can’t see my eyes from over there.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t. Shiittt! Strong fucking drink!”

“Too strong?”

“Nah, nah. It’s good. It’s good. So do you have a boyfriend lurking about somewhere, or?”

“Not really.”

“Not really?”

“I think I might . . . leave now.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are we vibing, or?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Stay a bit to find out?”

“I feel like I’ve . . . stayed.”

“How about some coke?”

“Ah, no.”

“K?”

“No.”

“P?”

“No, thank you.”

“They’re cruelty fucking free.”

“I . . . highly doubt that.”

It’s so hard to leave people wondering when their inclination is not to wonder about anything at all. Guys like that are only focused on penetrating the spaces that they occupy, because they’re usually congratulated for how successfully they manage to do so.

He was outside the kitchen door talking with a group of people when I walked in, and it clearly didn’t matter to him what I was thinking, or feeling, or what my attention was already on. He needed it, and he was willing to do almost anything to get it.

Everything he did and said seemed cute, and innocuous, and self-effacing, and hospitable, when it was actually an attempt to dominate me and our interaction. I’d bet that in almost any given social situation he wants to be seen as the funniest, and the sexiest, and the most considerate, and the most intelligent, and the most charismatic, and the most creative, and the most competent, and the most original, and every moment becomes about him accomplishing this at the expense of all else.

He believes that the world exists for him, and whenever he enters a room it must become about him. All natural conversation falters and all silences are quickly filled. His curiosity isn’t genuine—it has an agenda. Every glance and every gesture are part of a larger scheme.

His calculated clothing choices aren’t expressive.

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